


In Freya's clutches

by Cirilla9



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Awkward Flirting, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Missing Scene, Older Woman/Younger Man, Ubbe's POV, Vikings, blame ubbe's facial expressions for the existence of this fic, this is not good, when you resemble your father too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 08:39:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: "- Lagertha wants you, - said Margrethe one day."AKA Ubbe and his women (not all of them; the guy's popular with girls lately)AKA another pointless Ubbe-centric fic nobody asked for





	In Freya's clutches

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to write it through Ubbe's eyes. Perhaps my own perspective interfered too much...

\- Lagertha wants you, - said Margrethe one day.

Ubbe, laying stretched out on the bed, scoffed.

\- This is not a laughing matter, Ubbe, I see it.

Ubbe threw an arm across his eyes, his lips tugged up in a smile. Margrethe climbed on the bed next to him, pushing his hand away to look at him.

\- I see how she observes you, how she hunts you with her eyes; the way she is touching you and looking at you isn’t motherly. She wants to steal you from me.

\- You’ve got an obsession with that woman.

\- No, Ubbe. Pay attention to her advances, you’ll see it too.

\- Mhhm, I prefer to pay attention to yours.

Ubbe grabbed Margrethe’s waist and hauled her onto him. Her serious expression broke into a smile.

\- I want to make love with you.

She leaned down and kissed him as he pulled her robe up, exposing her thigh; soon the talks ceased and the room filled with hastened breaths and rustling of two bodies.

* * *

 

The worst part was that inwardly Ubbe couldn’t rebuff Margrethe’s concerns as easily as dismissing her words. He saw Lagertha’s flirting himself, without his wife voicing it to him. There was something disturbing in the way the queen sought him at every party; how not once she took his wife’s place next to him, often throwing Margrethe out of her rightful spot in order to do that. Ubbe always felt queasy when a woman that killed his mother patted him on the chest or looked intently in his face as if trying to see Ragnar’s ghost there.

During the celebration for the return of Björn and the allegiance with King Svase, Ubbe placed himself strategically near the wall, in an easily oversighted place. Although he was curious of the stories his brother and Halfdan had to tell about their adventures, he preferred to ask them later, when there won’t be seducing pair of blue eyes upon him.

He cursed silently into his cup as Lagertha spotted him anyway, approaching his hiding place with a warm smile of a hostess and a predatory gaze of a huntress.

\- Ubbe, I wondered where you’ve disappeared, - she said, stopping too close to him.

There was wall behind his back and her wine smelling breath before him.

\- Looks like you’ve found me, - he chuckled forcedly and dipped into his own cup of mead to avoid saying anything further.

\- I’ll always find what I am looking for, - said Lagertha, still looking at him with the same too much amount of interest. – May it be your wish about peaceful farming obscured any further desires? I’ve heard you want to lead a simple life in a settlement but I wouldn’t expect to find you more interested in simply thinking about it than in hearing the news from wide world my son brought today.

\- Do you find my wish amusing?

\- Not at all. I was a farmer myself. It is a hard life that deserves respect for those who are living it. But if you will rise to the challenge, the effects will be most… satisfying.

Ubbe’s mouth quirked at her choice of words.

\- I think I’ll be able to do that.

\- With the help of the right woman for sure.

There is was again, that coquettish glint in her eyes. Ubbe might take it for the drunk wine if it was happening the first time. But at this point even Margrethe noticed that.

\- I’m sure Margrethe can do anything that’s required, - said Ubbe, pretending not to notice Lagertha’s double meaning and reminding her he was wed at the same time.

He had married Margrethe just because he wanted a simple obedient wife that could make all the house works. Former slave girl seemed ideal for that back then; now Ubbe didn’t like her growing ambitions.

\- Umm, I doubt that, - mused Lagertha, stubbornly going further into the direction Ubbe wished only to withdraw from. – You’d need someone strong and steadfast, like a steel for a battle. Margrethe is like a frail flower. I’d always said every woman should learn how to fight…

Ubbe looked over the hall above Lagertha’s shoulder as her voice washed over him but there was no one who could provide a suitable excuse for walking away from the queen of Kattegat. Björn talked to his wife and children; Halfdan was, like always lately, glued to his side, rarely looking away from the oldest Ragnarsson; Margrethe disappeared somewhere.

Lagertha continued her mostly monological chit chat, almost pressing herself on Ubbe now and he fought the urge to push her away. Did she seriously think to seduce him? She was a former wife of his father, a mother of his brother, a murderer of his mother. And though Ubbe couldn’t deny her apparent beauty, she was _old_. How could she think she could contest, and win, with the young, not yet twenty, attractive body of his wife?

Of course Lagertha outclassed Margrethe in almost every other aspect. Ubbe’s wife couldn’t rival with Lagertha’s cunning mind and wisdom gained from years of experience. Margrethe lacked Lagertha’s grace and skills and insight but that was never a problem for Ubbe. He wanted Margrethe for satisfying him in bed and bearing him children in the future. He didn’t need an overly intelligent and independent wife, his life was already complicated enough as it was. There was no need to tangle things up even more.

Just as Ubbe was about to say something harsh about Aslaug’s death that would end this mockery of conversation and most probably ruin his currently strong position in Kattegat, Torvi rushed near them, barely missing bumping into them. She cried.

Ubbe looked after her in concern, Lagertha frowned and looked around in search for her son. Soon she walked away from Ubbe, heading toward Björn, looking very much like she was about to scold him.

Ubbe let out a held up breath, grateful to Gods for rescuing him from the awkward social situation. He avoided Lagertha’s clutches, but for how long?

He ended his drink in one gulp and stalked outside the crowded, too warm hall.


End file.
